


Child Psychology 101

by Lilogirl



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Abandonment, Aspergers, Canon Autistic Character, Childhood, Family Issues, Gen, Sensory Overload, meltdowns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25600738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilogirl/pseuds/Lilogirl
Summary: Three brief snippets of Abed Nadir's less than idyllic childhood.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	Child Psychology 101

4-year-old Abed Nadir walks through the shopping mall with his mother. He looks around at all the different stores to try and distract himself from the loud and bombastic music he hears bursting from the speakers. He doesn’t know what song it is, all he knows is that he wants to go home. 

He’s asked his mom to take him home earlier, but his dad is working at the family falafel stand, and his mother doesn’t want such a young boy to be home by himself. She promises that the shopping spree won’t go on for too long, but it’s getting hard to believe that when it’s been 20 minutes since they entered the mall to get some clothes.

Abed doesn’t even see why he needs new clothes. He’s already wearing a pair of overalls and a Batman shirt. Sure, he’s already starting to outgrow both, but such concerns don’t enter the boy’s mind when the latest pop hit is blaring through his ears, not to mention the lights are hurting his eyes.

As the song reaches its climax, Abed squeezes his mother’s hand. His mouth opens slightly and releases a faint whine. His mother turns to him. “Abed, honey, what’s wrong?” she asks in hushed tones. “I wanna go home…” Abed’s mother gives out a sigh, an action she has become all too familiar with. 

“Abed, I’m sorry, but we need to get you some new clothes, you’re getting too big for all the stuff we have at home.” Abed hears some people start to murmur and look at the two of them. “But, but, the music, its too loud, and my ears are hurting, and the lights are too bright, and -” “Abed! Please don’t make a scene!” Abed’s mother says with desperation and distress in her voice. At this point, the speakers have switched to an even louder song, Abed feels like everyone is staring at him and his mom, and they’re all talking much too loud.

Abed’s lip begins to quiver. His mother gives him a look, a look that begs him not to have yet another meltdown. 

But Abed can’t control himself. 

He lets out another whine, and this time it’s MUCH louder. The few shoppers who hadn’t already noticed what’s going on are now fully aware of all the noise Abed’s making. Both mother and son hear murmurs of “the fuck is wrong with that kid?” and “I don’t know, he’s probably a special case or something”.

All of a sudden, Abed’s mom grabs her son’s arm and marches towards the mall doors. She marches outside the mall, through the parking lot, and into the car, taking Abed with her. 

There’s a long silence, one that fills the car and is only broken by the sound of Abed’s mother crying. It’s soft, unlike Abed’s whining, but still very strained. Abed hangs his head. Even with his challenges in understanding the behavior of others, he knows that the sound his mom is making means he messed up.

“Mommy?” he whispers.

No response. 

6-year-old Abed Nadir wakes up at exactly 7:18 in the morning. He crawls out from underneath his Sesame Street blanket, with his Batman footie pajamas and a horrible case of bed head, and walks over to his parent’s bedroom. 

His dad’s not there, which is to be expected. His father’s always been an early riser, always quick to start preparing for the long day ahead. His mom always tends to still be there in bed at this time though, ready to give Abed a soft hug and ask him what he dreamed about last night...which is why it’s so strange that she’s nowhere to be seen. 

“Huh...” the young boy thinks to himself. This is the first time his mom hasn’t been in bed in the morning. He feels like a detective from one of those crime shows he’s not allowed to watch, one who has to solve a missing person’s case. If only he could find the right clues… 

He decides it would be smartest to go downstairs. Maybe his mommy had gotten hungry and went down to get breakfast? Yes, that had to be it. 

Abed walks down the staircase, holding on to the railing just like his mom taught him. Just as he’s halfway down, he hears a whimpering sound. After a few seconds, he recognizes it as crying. 

Abed freezes. Did he do something bad again, something to make his mommy cry? He runs down the stairs and into the kitchen, racing to tell his mother that he’s sorry, that he will be a good boy from now on. 

But when he arrives in the kitchen, his mother isn’t there either. All he sees is his dad, sitting on the couch, head in his hands. 

“Dad, where’s mom? I can’t find her anywhere.” Abed asks, hoping for his dad to say that she “went out to get groceries” or “is gardening plants in the backyard.” Instead, Abed’s dad just...sits there. His whole body is as still as a statue, except for his fingers, which are slowly rubbing his forehead.  
Abed panics. His dad is never this quite, he’s usually the man of the house, the one who controls everything. “Dad, where’s mommy!?” Abed says with a fright in his voice that he usually saves for when he’s experiencing sensory overload. 

And then, Abed’s dad looks up. 

Abed’s never been good at decoding people’s facial expressions, but this...this is in another ballpark entirely. Gobi Nadir’s face seems to be such a strange mixture of multiple emotions, and Abed can’t make heads or tails of what any of them mean. 

He tries to split what he thinks his dad is feeling into percentages. Let’s see...judging by his dads face, he seems to be: 

60% Heartbroken

20% Desperate

20% Angry

Abed begins to slowly walk backward. “Dad, where’s mommy?” he repeats, this time in a considerably quieter voice. 

“She’s gone.” 

Gobi Nadir’s voice comes out sounding scratchy and chocked up, and it frightens Abed, because he’s never heard his dad sound like this before. But more than that, what he just said… it’s too much. His young brain can’t begin to comprehend that his mother, the one person who was always there in the morning to give him a hug, always there to give him a kiss on the knee whenever he fell over, always ready to listen to him talk about cartoons, all of a sudden isn’t going to be there anymore. 

This is his fault, he knows it is. If he had just controlled himself more, had fewer meltdowns, hadn’t accidentally been rude to family members, his mom would still be here. As he runs back upstairs, he can hear his dad cry, and Abed knows that’s his fault as well. 

It’s always his fault… 

12-year-old Abed Nadir sits on the couch, home alone, rewatching The Breakfast Club for the 20th time. His father doesn’t seem to understand why he would rewatch the same movie over and over again, but Abed thinks it’s comforting. He knows what’s going to happen in this film, so watching it is like repeating a routine, which is always nice.  
Speaking of his dad, he isn’t here at the moment. He’s working at the felafel stand, leaving Abed home alone to watch 80s teen movies to his heart’s content. 

He thinks back to how the day went. At school, he had been called the r-word twice and had a meltdown during the school’s fundraising assembly. His dad had found out about it and had scolded him all the way home, asking him why he couldn’t control himself, why he couldn’t be like how he was as an adolescent, why he couldn’t be a “good son”. 

Abed sighs. As the teenagers on his TV set start to dance to “We Are Not Alone” by Karla DeVito, he stops thinking about what happened today, and what might happen in the future. 

Maybe someday, things will get better. Maybe someday, all the bullying will stop, and he will be safe again. Maybe someday, he will meet a nice girl (or boy, he hasn’t decided yet) who will understand him and tolerate his differences. Maybe one day, all of THIS will be over.

But that day is not today.


End file.
